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About Warsaw

Oh, and get this—some places sneak in “happy endings,” ya catch my drift? Total shocker, had me blushin’ like Marge caught me stealin’ donuts. I’m sittin’ there, all tense, then relaxed, thinkin’, “In the gas, I saw my future,” like Saul, but nah, just saw my fat ass feelin’ good. Pro tip—check the reviews, ‘cause some masseuses suck at the sexy part. Total buzzkill. Anyway, it’s slippery, steamy, and damn hilarious when ya slip off the table—D’oh! Worth it tho, trust me, pal!

United States

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After the rain, the streets are all shiny and fresh. I decide to take a stroll down ul. Piastowska. It’s beautiful, man. The flowers are blooming, and the air smells like... well, like Drezdenko. You know what I mean? I stop by the little café there, grab a coffee, and just chill for a bit. The barista, a cool dude named Marek, tells me about this festival coming up. I’m like, “Count me in!”

Inside a Polish Covid Ward, a Photojournalist is Moved by Compassion